


Unspoken Resolve

by TenkeyLess



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Elidibus gives as good as he gets, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sassy WoL, Smut, Valentione's Fic Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 14:15:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22712122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TenkeyLess/pseuds/TenkeyLess
Summary: Prompt given:"No laying hands on the emissary, is it?" Pre-Shadowbringers, a female Warrior manages to fluster Elidibus during conversation... if only just. One word out of place, a breath taken, whatever it is it's enough. Catching this moment of weakness she makes a point to capitalize and makes a point of seeing how far she can bring him without any contact at all before he begs."A mutual give and take as Elidibus and the Warrior find more in each other than they'd anticipated.
Relationships: Elidibus/Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 69
Collections: Valentine's Fic Exchange 2020





	Unspoken Resolve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [illegible](https://archiveofourown.org/users/illegible/gifts).



"No laying hands on the Emissary, is it?" 

You stalk around the white robed figure, an unexpected invader in your sanctuary. Elidibus turns to keep you within his vision, and you tut loudly at his lack of trust. 

" _ You _ were the one who chose to accost me  _ here _ , Ascian. Of the pair of us, I rather think it's me who ought to be mistrusting you." He stills at your purring accusation, tilting his masked face in birdlike amusement.

"A reasonable point, though one that misplaces my intent in calling upon you."

"Mm." You hum noncommittally, taking a moment to regard his robed form, so similar yet not to the other followers of Zodiark you've encountered. Certainly the most unique of the lot, insisting on using others--monsters and minions--for his little tests rather than his own hand, and praising your skill with the echo.Unlike the others, he chooses to speak with you at length rather than take up arms during the handful of meetings you've shared.

Unseeing, your soul begins a familiar chime as your aether reaches out to brush against his. The echo awakens; dormant during your other encounters, it seems his guard is sufficiently lowered for it to find a foothold. He freezes at the intimate contact while your eyes close at the sudden inrush of emotion. Rigid self-control eases for just a moment, and you  _ see _ past his adamant shell into a gaping loneliness and  _ yearning _ deep enough to drown in. It threatens to drag you under, and you struggle back to yourself with a gasp. 

Elidibus stands as he was, a figure in white that may as well be carved from marble. Although, with your new-won knowledge, you detect a faint flush on his cheeks as you peer at him. The dim light of your room at Revenant's Toll casts shadow across his face, eyes an unknown glimmer behind his mask. 

You'd panicked when the rumble of rending void filled your room, reaching for your weapon even though your armor stood long abandoned in favor of soft sleepwear. Yet the newly familiar white of the Emissary, perplexing though his presence be, was what greeted you from darkest shadow rather than any of his calamitous brethren. He certainly showed no shame, calling on you in such a revealing state so close to sleep. The Emissary's calm greeting had you placing your weapon back in its sheath despite yourself, tense muscles relaxing at his unruffled appearance.

Although with your echo's gift of knowledge, you wonder now how unperturbed he truly is. A warm curiosity suffuses you, interest in him seeded over your few meetings with the diplomatic Ascian. Lingering long after his business with the Scion’s echo users was complete, you’d caught him watching, a silent observer from unexpected avenues.

"Did you wish for my company, Emissary?" Your lips, soft from sleep, part -- though you give him no room to answer just yet. "To call on the Bringer of Light at such an hour, one might make salacious guesswork of your intentions." 

If possible, he looks more stone-like than before, the pink on his cheeks deepening as a wave of  _ longing _ smacks your midsection with foreign want. You falter in your pacing to consider, truly consider, the warm idea rising in your mind -- from what appears to be mutual interest. Succor. A salve for that aching loneliness, and a dark curiosity for how far he will let you take this. You smile, all hunger and teeth, as warmth begins to pool in your navel. 

"Tell me, Emissary, how long has it been since you permitted someone to lay hands on you?" A sense of curiosity fills the room as his composure cracks -- he turns his head to you, the motion too quick to not be a tell. 

"How long since you felt another's tender touch?" 

Elidibus' eyes bore into you, his gaze intent, sending shivers down your spine. 

"Shall I share what  _ I _ would like to touch, and  _ how _ , dearest Emissary?" 

"That is hardly proper--"

"Proper does not enter into it, Elidibus," you growl. " _ You _ came to  _ me _ at my sleeping hours. Although--" and here you pause, uncertain of how far to push the mysterious  ~~ familiar ~~ Ascian. "Perhaps you protest as you would rather share how you would like to touch  _ me _ ." 

You sashay to the head of your bed, not much larger than the full sized mattresses in adventurer's inn rooms. Hips swaying to flaunt your rear, you keep your back to him as you take your nightshirt in work-roughened hands and work it upwards. A strangled noise behind you stands as all the encouragement you need, and you begin to narrate as the shirt joins the rest of your clothing at the foot of the bed.

"Do you wish to lay hands on my skin? This tapestry of scars?" Your fingers frame the larger badges of your profession, cuts and ridges where a Primal's lucky hit mars your skin. Nails dimple the smooth muscle of your back as you wend your hands lower. "Do you wish to taste? To see if I am wet for your attentions?”." 

Your fingers stretch the band of your sleep trousers, shimmying them down past your hips, your thighs, and you turn. 

A single ornate boot has stepped forward, towards you. Shock is plain on his expression as much as the vermillion cheeks visible under his mask. Heart pounding loud in your ears with sweet anticipation, you step out of your trousers and back onto the bed, facing Elidibus. 

You could swear you hear another heart beating in time with yours, faintly traversing the air, his shadowy aether looming just out of reach. The taste of bergamot and bitter denial greet your wide-flung senses. Inviting both the Emissary and his aether, you arrange yourself on the scarce pillows and run your hands across plump breasts, nipples already stiff from the uncovered chill. Thumbs frame their generous curve, fingers splaying over their swell. Digging in to massage the tender flesh, you loose a low moan. 

"Would that these were your hands, Emissary. The roughness of your gloves, the metal of your claws. Or perhaps you wish to feel your skin mated to mine, and would discard your gloves as the unfeeling garb they are."

Elidibus' breath hitches, before he takes a hesitant step forward. Then another. The looming aether presses close, shadows lengthening around you in the candlelight. 

"You know naught with which you trifle, hero."

"Mm?" You hum contentedly, flicking pert nipples to send a jolt down to your core. Your head tips back into a waiting pillow at the sharp sensation, rising tide of arousal a pulse low between your legs. It’s a heady sensation, flustering the stoic Emissary.

"That does not sound like a request to join in, Elidibus." You gasp, watching him with hooded eyes. "Perhaps you  _ do _ wish to know what pleasures I would wish to visit upon your esteemed personage."

Hand drifting down to cup your sex, thumb seeking your clit, the aetherial heartbeat increasing in tempo. The candles in the room flicker and dance, painting fantastical creatures in shadow on the wall. Breathing deeply, the lowly vibration cushions your sides in a spectral vise, thrumming in time against your skin. You smile, curious, and reach out to stroke the buzzing aether with your pleasure-soaked own. Elidibus hisses, swiftly indrawn breath a conclusive answer to what he feels as you touch him along this aetherial extension. 

"From our very first meeting, I have wondered about you, Elidibus. After Lahabrea, my impression of your kind was stained with crude violence. Yet you offered no threat, save for the test of my combat prowess." Lean muscle glints and twitches in the sputtering light as you rub small circles around your clit. "Why is it that this Bringer of Calamity has approached me, I wondered. To look, to learn, to remember what the echo reveals."

"I had hoped we might be counted as friends, Warrior. Despite what your Mother wishes, we are not all shadows to be smothered." Clawing together the shards of his broken composure, Elidibus approaches the bed, jaw clenched. Extending a taloned hand, he mirrors your delicate grasp, hovering over your arousal. 

"You are not far wrong. It has been some time since I indulged in carnal pleasures." Curling his fingers, you feel an answering bloom of heat below your navel. He smiles, lush lips pressed together in satisfaction as you squirm. 

Leaning close, his words are breath upon your lips, mouths parted by the barest margin. "Do not think I have lost my touch." His mask brushes gently against your nose as he leans in to close the gap. Lips meet and part in a chaste kiss, greeting all too brief. Your eyes flicker up to meet the guise of his mask, need bleeding across to his encompassing aether. His yawning pit of touch-deprived existence presses close for comfort. You trace his lips, calloused fingertips almost too rough for the smooth silken curve. You reverently trace his jaw, the shell of his ear, nestling your hand in the wisps of silver hair just beyond the edge of his cowl. His free hand comes up to delicately hold your wrist, turning his face to press his lips against your thrumming pulse. 

The banked fire of your arousal ignites into an inferno as he brings your captured hand to his heart and his mouth to your ear.

" _ Please _ ."

Tugging your hands free, you frame his face and pull him down for a kiss. The gentle press of lips chips away at Elidibus' composure, teasing, tasting, a foe turned friend for the evening. The heat at your groin swells under his aetherial pull, shadowy presence pressing close. Drawing back from your kiss, he twists the maelstrom of pleasure at your navel until your back bows from the weight of it. Panting at the pressure, he seizes control of the seductive game you've been playing.

The beak of his mask presses into your neck, its point scraping a raw line as his lips find your throat. He murmurs a question against the soft skin, words rumbling pleasantly into your bones.

"Won't you visit your attentions upon me?" Teeth scratch a sharp line along your jaw, until his lips find your ear. "Or have your words deserted you?"

Need pulses hot below and you squirm, held captive by the Emissary's melodious voice. He chuckles at your discomfort, curling a claw to caress your frozen hand. A pang of wanton lust follows, and you clench on nothing as your hips buck upwards.

"No matter, an Emissary speaks with more than words."

Elidibus settles onto you fully, straddling your hips and trapping your hands beneath him. Claw tips trace a delicate path up your navel to your exposed breasts; he  _ teases  _ when you wish he would grasp and claim.

"You need but say the word, and I will _show_ _you_ , as you have so kindly detailed, what an Ascian is capable of," he croons, desire lacing each word. The shadows across the room lean in, as eager as he to hear your response. 

" _ Please _ , Elidibus." 

At your whining entreaty, the Emissary's composure is undone. Cracked and discarded, his gentle mien dissolves like a snapped string. A violent, sudden loss of stability as the room's shadows devour your form. Lapping at the edges of your limbs, heavy aether holds you in place. Elidibus mouths a line between your breasts, the edges of his mask catching and scratching as he wends his way to your lower lips. 

The aether anchoring you in place pulsates gently as his mask comes to rest above your folds. Hidden eyes devour your expression of delight as he puts his clever tongue to task. He hums a pleased note and you find it all you can do to hold on, your edges blurring with spiking pleasure, sinking into the firm hold of the shadows surrounding you. Something warm  ~~ and almost familiar ~~ knocks against the very borders of your soul, and you relax into the sense of  _ precious, longing, treasured _ . 

The Emissary laps at your cunt, tongue delving into your slick while his thumb presses your clit. He catalogs how to coax ever more debauched sounds from your throat, each new moan an essential point of data. How you  _ writhe _ as he suckles at your clit. How your muscles  _ quiver _ with impending release, your shriek as he thrusts an ungloved finger within you. You clench around his proffered digit, rolling your hips helplessly, chasing that last bit of friction you require--

And the Emissary delivers, nipping harshly at your thigh as his fingers flick your clit a final time. Keening as you come undone, the pressure cradling your form  _ exults _ at the frisson of bliss flashing across your soul. The pleasure and pressure both mount, bouncing from fingers to toes in increasing measure until--it crosses that impermeable boundary from you to the shadows. Fluttering with surprise, the aether accepts your waves of rapture, drinking the sensation down until you are left with only echoes of the shattering pleasure. 

Elidibus chuckles, vibrations tingling pleasantly against your still thrumming flesh. 

"So your soul may cross the borders of another. Most intriguing. You are strong in the echo indeed." He is effusive with his praise, kissing along your thigh until the nose of his mask nestles at your navel. "Let us examine this more closely, together. You have my word it will be worth your time."

Reaching down from your perch, you grasp at the silver hair peeking from behind his cowl and  _ tug _ . 

"I think I might need more  _ convincing _ , Emissary." Your lips meet his in a  ~~ new old  ~~ familiar dance, kiss expressing your rekindled hunger as his shadows embrace you tight. His answering smile feeds your confidence, that  _ tender, precious, yearning _ touch filling your soul to the brim as you retire for the first of many evenings spent entangled with your enigmatic Emissary. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks as always to the [Bookclub discord](https://discord.gg/PvbG45u) for their infectious enthusiasm <3


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